The Princess in the Tower
by jtav
Summary: "And for the more romantic, she was the princess in the tower brought forth into the modern age, isolated and alone, waiting only for her prince to come. Somehow he doubted ft any of these groups knew or cared to know that she climbed trees." Oleg Petrovsky, meet Miranda Lawson.


Henry Lawson had seen better days. Oh, the man's hair was as coiffed and his suit as impeccably tailored as it was in the newsvids. But he looked pale and tired. His smile was triumphant, but his eyes were shrewd, appraising Oleg as if he were another company to be gobbled up by the Lawson Biomedical machine. "You may tell your masters that I did it, Petrovsky. I've unlocked the secret of human biotics."

"We did it, love," said the woman standing next to him. Her tone was half affectionate and half annoyed. But then, Dr. Gwendolyn Llewelyn had appeared in the news alongside Lawson for as long as Oleg could remember. Her dark eyes focused on Oleg. "We've managed to create a human biotic without in utero exposure to element zero. And, after fitting the subject with an implant, she displayed none of the side effects we've seen so often with the L2."

"Excellent news." Oleg did his best to keep his tone professional, but the excitement and satisfaction were like a fine wine after a long campaign. The discovery of biotics should have been an unmitigated triumph for humanity, with telekinesis affording humanity a slew of possibilities both on and off the battlefield, but that triumph had been marred by cancers and the sheer unpredictability of whether the abilities would manifest. "How did you do it?"

"The krogan, if you can believe that," Llewellyn said. "They used to have a procedure in which they implanted eezo nodules in the nervous system. It produced exceptionally powerful battlemasters, but they gave it up after the genophage. We were able to successfully adapt it for humans."

Oleg's eyes narrowed. There was something Llewelyn and Lawson weren't telling him, but he didn't know what it was. He hated going into battle with incomplete intel. "It sounds like an incredibly risky procedure. I will not put men at risk for no reason."

Lawson drummed his fingers on the desk. "You're welcome to look over our data at your leisure. Once Cerberus upholds its end of the bargain, naturally."

Oleg slid the OSD across the desk. "The data from our school at Teltin. Though I can't imagine what you would need it for. Merely a record of training procedures for human biotics. Unless…" Something finally clicked into place. "You want to train this subject for yourself."

"And they told me you were just another soldier. The procedure was a success, but the results have only been in the second quintile compared to other L2s." Something dark crept into Lawson's voice, and Oleg felt a cold wind pass over him. "I expected better."

"And with this data, we'll be able to make her live up to your standards. As she always has." Llewellyn squeezed Lawson's shoulder and for a moment the man looked almost human. "I'll show Major Petrovsky out."

"I'll see to him myself in a moment. Perhaps a demonstration will assuage his fears."

"Forgive Henry," she said when they had stepped outside the door. "A brilliant man, of course, but a terrible perfectionist. We're working on the frontiers of biotic research and he's upset that the results are merely above average! I did exceptional work."

"As long as this procedure of yours can turn my men into effective biotics safely."

"Oh, it will be more than adequate for your needs." Llewelyn's eyes glittered as her smile turned sly. She was beautiful the way a tiger was beautiful: you might admire them, but a sane man kept his distance. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

Oleg shrugged. "Lead on." If nothing else, it would allow him to see the efficacy the procedure for himself. Llewellyn led him through a series of glass doors. This tower was Lawson's personal, private domain, but it looked more like an extension of his offices that a home. The carpet was a deep red and paintings of Old Masters lined the walls. Originals, no doubt. What he noticed most, though, was the security. Security cameras were perched at regular intervals and armed guards in business attire patroll the hallways.

Llewelyn must have noticed the expression on his face. "We must seem paranoid to you, but there's something valuable here." She led him to an elevator and down to another hallway before stopping at another set of doors that led outside. "Henry will be with you in a moment."

He stood in what appeared to be a walled garden. It was summer here in Sydney, and the sun was pleasantly warm. The grounds were well-tended and dotted with flowers of every color. An immense oak tree dominated the center, its branches twisted and gnarled with age. And on one of those branches sat a girl of sixteen or seventeen. A dark curtain of hair hid most of her face from view, but what he could see told him of pale, high cheekbones. One knee hugged against her chest as she stared off the distance. A proud, solitary, melancholy creature this. Oleg didn't speak. Something about the sight seemed to demand reverent silence, like the icon of a saint.

"A visitor?" said a clipped aristocratic voice that Oleg realized with a little shock came from the girl above him. She jumped down in a single, fluid motion.

Time stilled. A stupid cliché, but how else to explain how he could notice so many details between one moment and the next? If Dr. Llewelyn was beautiful, the girl before him was resplendent. She was pale, but it was the pale of carved marble, livened by a subtle blush that assured him that he would caress flesh if he was but brave enough to touch her. Sunlight transformed her hair from black to a thousand different shades of brown. It cascaded to her shoulders like a waterfall. And perhaps if that was the end of it, he could have recovered his brain without a problem. But her eyes were an uncommon shade halfway between blue and gray, the sort that simply didn't occur without dyes anymore. Her gaze was shrewd and appraising as Henry's had been, but there was amusement there too. Carefully veiled and guarded, as if she wanted to laugh, but dared not. What could have been an uncanny statue was radiant and vital. Alive. Galatea brought from myth to Sydney.

Catherine had been dead for ten years, and Oleg hadn't mourned her truly deeply for eight. He felt desire, but it was something he kept safely locked away to be indulged when it was convenient. Only something had smashed the lock off the chest where he kept it. Lust poured through him unheeded and he was left scrambling to catch up.

"You must be the Cerberus officer," she continued. "Petrovsky, isn't it?"

"I—what?" How very eloquent of him. .

"Don't look so shocked." She took a step towards him. There was a subtle swagger in her gait now, as if she had decided that she was the one who held the upper hand. Since Oleg was still trying to locate his missing brain, perhaps she wasn't wrong. "Oleg Petrovsky. Awarded the Star of Terra for successfully defending the settlement at New Macau. You received your officer's commission a year later, but left the Alliance soon after. Now you're with Cerberus and collaborating with my father on a highly classified project." She smiled a smug, self-satisfied smile. "How was that? I've learned that doing your research about a person is the difference between a comfortable life and… unpleasantness. And you are an unknown quantity."

"Very good," he said. So she was also clever enough to break through some substantial encryption, in addition to being beautiful. His mind slipped away again. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage Miss—"

"Miranda Lawson."

And that brought his mind back. Lawson jealously guarded access to his daughter, to the point that it was a persistent tabloid rumor that she had died or never existed at all. Priests and imams had railed against her creation, condemning Lawson for usurping God's creative power. Supporters of "baseline humanity" decried the existence of a made-to-order child. And for the more romantic, she was the princess in the tower brought forth into the modern age, isolated and alone, waiting only for her prince to come. Somehow he doubted if any of these groups knew or cared to know that she climbed trees.

But she was off limits. Half his age and the daughter of an important backer. Very well. He scooped up the lust and locked it away again to indulge at a more convenient moment. "A pleasure to meet you."

"So what brings you here?"

"You did," Lawson said as he crossed the grounds to stand beside Oleg. "Major Petrovsky wants to see your biotics for himself."

"Father," Miranda said. Her voice was cold and stiffly polite, but she looked at her biological father with such hatred that Oleg took a step back. "So you're showing of your handiwork at last."

And two and two finally made four. Horror overtook Oleg. "You tested the procedure on your daughter?"

"Her superior healing made her an ideal candidate," Lawson said. "Besides, she was meant to be a superior human, and I believe that we can all agree that improving humanity is a worthy goal. How could she be if she was denied a skill possessed by other people? I improved her."

Oleg scarcely heard him. Even without reading over the data Lawson promised, he knew that the procedure would have been both painful and risky by its very nature. It must be tested on someone, but that was why Cerberus maintained discreet relationships with prisons like Purgatory. The only ones at risk were those who had already forfeited their lives. But Lawson and Llewellyn had gambled with the life of someone who should have been precious to them. "I don't need to see. I'm sure the data will be quite sufficient."

"No!" Miranda's voice was as cold and imperious as a queen's. "You've come all the way from Eden Prime. I'll give you what you want."

Miranda closed her eyes and transformed. Energy arced over her skin like lightning. Her shoulders tensed as she dropped into a ready stance. Her hands glowed. And then, with a deep breath, she opened her eyes. The power turned sapphire into lightning. Oh no, Miranda Lawson was no fragile princess hidden away from the world. She was Athena and Kali merged into one divine being of poise and destruction. She raised a hand and a nearby bench hovered in the air.

"Extraordinary," Oleg murmured. It took instructors six months to teach students at BAaT to lift similar weights. "How long have you been in training?"

"Not long," Lawson answered for her. "A little over three months. And this is a fraction of what she can do. Show our guest, if you're so determined to impress."

And so Miranda did. She tore a rock to shreds and tossed a dead branch across the garden. Her powers were not yet military-caliber, but she would be a formidable adversary with a few more months of time and training. Cerberus would be fortunate to create such biotics if the procedure were safe enough.

_Or you could simply take what Lawson and Llewellyn have already created._ The thought came unbidden—doubtless his libido making a last-ditch effort to reassert itself—but Oleg allowed himself to consider it. Cerberus needed the perceptive and intelligent to do its work of strengthening humanity. It needed biotic power. He looked at Miranda. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, but she never made a sound. Cerberus needed determination as well.

"And now a singularity, I think."

Miranda was pale and panting heavily, and she couldn't disguise the disbelief that flitted across her face. Oleg took a step forward. "Enough, Lawson. She's exhausted."

Lawson was all ice. "She's a Lawson. She will do as she's instructed or she will suffer the consequences." Lawson snapped his fingers. "Now, Miranda."

Miranda extended her palm as hatred and exhaustion warred in her eyes. A ball of dark energy swirled above her hand. Oleg's eyes widened. Yes, if Lawson and Llewellyn's procedure could gift this to humanity without the threat of cancer, then they could finally begin to stand as equals with the asari and the turians. But as quickly as the sphere appeared, it vanished as Miranda dropped to one knee. Oleg bounded to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Panic lanced through him. He should have insisted more strongly against this demonstration, should have _done_ something. Miranda lifted her head, her nose bleeding. Her mouth formed a small 'O' of surprise before she stepped back and staggered to the bench.

"I'm very disappointed in you. You will double your training until you can create a singularity without embarrassing yourself. We will speak further in private." Llewelyn turned to him. "I apologize, and I assure you the procedure will obtain better results than what you saw."

Oleg fought the urge to round on the man. Miranda had looked utterly miserable when her father had told her they would speak again. No longer a proud goddess, but a frightened child. What had these people who should have loved her done? Anger, quiet and certain, coursed through him. "I traveled a long way, and it is quite lovely here. May I rest a moment?"

Lawson looked at him skeptically but nodded after a long moment. "Of course." He swept back inside and Oleg crept toward Miranda. How to proceed? He had always left the inspirational speeches to his subordinates while he tended to the practical duties of keeping his men supplied and safe. So practicality it must be here as well. He finished into his pocket and pulled out on an energy bar. "Take it," he said. "It will help you feel better."

Miranda didn't move. "What do you want for it?" Her voice was faint, but the words were clear and laced with bitterness. "No gift comes without strings. Not from my father, not from anyone."

"At the present, I'd like to keep a skilled biotic from passing out."

"That's not all you want. I suppose I should be fortunate that my father decided I should be beautiful." But she took the bar and nibbled at it. "Thank you."

He sat at the other end of the bench, careful not to touch her. "It's quite true, though. Cerberus could make use of someone like you. In a year, I think you'd be quite the equal of an asari commando. If only your father would let you come to us."

She flushed a little at the compliment, but her laugh was bitter. "That's never going to happen. Father keeps me under lock and key here. Sometimes I wonder why he bothered with all these fancy genes. I think he just likes knowing that he has the best of everything, including the best daughter. But he never lets me do anything."

"And what would you like to do?" Oleg asked mildly. They were treading very dangerous ground here. Henry Lawson was valuable to Cerberus and he would be furious if he knew Oleg was fomenting rebellion. But the daughter could be valuable as well. And, and he wanted to see the goddess again.

"Something. See the galaxy. Do some good. Just _something,_" she finished with a shrug. "Could Cerberus give me that?"

Too late to turn back now. "Perhaps. But we aren't a charity for teenagers to see the world. It would mean hard and unpleasant work. Being hunted and despised. I imagine your father keeps you fed and clothed no matter what else he does. You'd know cold and hunger."

A flicker of fire returned to her eyes. "I'm already despised. And Father watches me every moment. I've never been outside these walls." I've never—" Her fingers fell across his arm, and Oleg was acutely aware of the warmth and strength of them. "I'm not afraid. What's the catch? Would I have to, er, do anything for you specifically?" The pressure on his arm intensified and became short strokes. A desperate teenager's awkward seduction.

Oleg sucked in a breath. It would be easy to close the distance between them and steal a kiss. Steal more. But he was a Cerberus officer, not a monster. "Others may demand that of you someday. But not me."

She relaxed visibly. "And you think Cerberus would have me?"

No campaign was ever won without risk. "I do."

Lawson reentered. "Are you quite recovered?"

"I think so." He stood, deliberately keeping his back to Miranda. "I thank you for the demonstration, and I look forward to working with you. If you have any further questions, you can find me at the Shangri-La until tomorrow." He strode out the door and did not look back. There was nothing to do but wait.

* * *

The clock struck midnight. Oleg sat on the edge of the bed. He hadn't slept that night; Lawson's notes had ensured that. This wasn't medicine; it was torture. Miranda hadn't been able to walk for a month. What it would do to an ordinary soldier didn't bear thinking about. They would simply have to find another way to level the playing field.

Of Miranda herself, there had been no sign. Perhaps he should have taken a more active hand in getting her away from her father. Perhaps she was too frightened to escape. Perhaps the creature who enthralled him was nothing more than a dirty old man's fantasy.

There was a knock at the door. Oleg rose to answer, his heart half in his throat. No need to get his hopes up. It could be anyone. A lost tourist. Assassins. Hope was foolish. But he answered the door all the same.

Miranda's lip was bleeding, and her clothes were wrinkled and dirty. But her eyes shone as she gave him a crooked smile. "Is that offer still good?"

"Oh yes, Miss Lawson." He laughed as loud and long as he dared. Or perhaps Miranda was exactly what he thought she was. "Welcome to Cerberus."

* * *

_For what it's worth, this was the original prologue for Pawn, Knight, Queen in the earliest draft. Now that Foundation isn't covering Miranda's escape, I feel free to dust it off and present it here as a one shot._


End file.
